


Path of Least Resistance

by Brit Hux-Tico (birchwoods01)



Series: Sweet Stars Collection [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Valtaka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:55:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23378008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birchwoods01/pseuds/Brit%20Hux-Tico
Summary: Dopheld Mitaka is tired of being pushed around by Kylo Ren. He's tired of feeling powerless, of feeling out of control, but when he meets Val Alcyon, a young Sergeant in the First Order, he finds a way to let off a little bit of steam, exposing his heart in the process.A three part backstory for the characters Dopheld Mitaka and Val Alcyon from the fanfictionSweet Stars.
Relationships: Dopheld Mitaka/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Sweet Stars Collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681402
Comments: 16
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [ @ElfMaidenOfLight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElfMaidenOfLight/pseuds/ElfMaidenOfLight) for Beta reading for me! You're partial inspiration for this adorable duo, so I thank you very much for your assistance! 
> 
> Please enjoy these soft babies. >3< I love them with all of my heart.

Dopheld Mitaka was tired of being looked down upon. He was tired of being thrown into walls, of being choked by invisible forces, of being threatened within an inch of his life by a man with a large lightsaber who was overcompensating for something. His immediate superior, General Hux, a man he greatly respected and to whom he was loyal to a fault, tried to stick up for him in the ways he best could, but sometimes it was not enough. Kylo Ren was too powerful and too present and too much. 

He swallowed his fear as Kylo Ren left the Bridge, finally, and removed his hat to wipe the sweat from his brow with the back of his glove, thankful that the brute had left without taking his anger out on him once more. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a young man was studying him from one of the lower consoles beneath the main bridge. His eyes were a bright, ice blue, his hair a sandy blonde beneath his First Order cap. He had a nice smile. His insignia proved he was a sergeant: a low rank, but still a rank. 

The boy smiled. Though not quite a boy, Mitaka thought. Perhaps nineteen, twenty. The bridge of his nose, peppered with freckles, wrinkled as he did so. 

Mitaka felt something stir within him, a longing, a mild twinge of desire. He swallowed and narrowed his eyes upon him. 

“You,” he barked, using his rank and his position above the young man to intimidate him. “What are you looking at?”

The young officer didn’t seem intimidated by him at all. Instead, he smiled slightly, turning back to his console and tapping out a few numbers on the screen. 

Mitaka clenched his teeth. 

“Would you… mind helping me with something, sir?” he asked suddenly, just as Mitaka had turned to leave. 

Mitaka paused mid-step, glancing back at him, studying him beneath hooded brows. 

“What is it you need, sergeant?”

The other officer smiled brightly, his teeth pearly and white. Mitaka’s stomach flipped over. 

“Tracking systems, sir,” the young man mumbled softly, his lips pursed ever so slightly, his expression warm and mildly sweet. “They’ve gone offline.”

Mitaka was distracted from the attractive qualities of the young officer, his heart hammering heavy in his chest as he strode forward and around, down the ramp, to come to rest behind the man at his console. If the tracking systems were down, Kylo Ren might have his lunch again. This would not do.

“What is the issue?” he murmured, leaning over the young man’s shoulder, his hip brushing into his arm where he was seated. 

The young officer was staring at him, their faces close. 

“It’s just that… they’ve gone offline, for some reason. I can’t figure it out.”

Mitaka turned to glare at him, annoyed at how distracted he sounded. His brows knit together as he examined that soft face, so close to his, looking at him so strangely. 

“Did you try powering off and back on?”

“No,” the young man responded, gesturing toward the console. “That’s a good idea, though. Why don’t you try?”

Mitaka rose to his full height, glaring down at the young man. He held his fists clenched at his sides and examined his face with subtle irritation. 

“What is your name, sergeant?”

“Alcyon,” the young man replied immediately, his innocent look vanishing almost immediately to be replaced with something else, something darker, something heady. “Val Alcyon.”

“Sergeant Alcyon,” Mitaka repeated in a biting tone. “Do you take me for a fool? Every First Order operative knows the basics of computer engineering. Now, do you truly need my assistance or are you just tooling with me?”

Val blinked in surprise, but a slow, steady grin split across his lips. 

Dopheld began to fume, his ears turning red beneath his hat, his spine straightening, his fists clenching, but before he could explode, Val spoke. 

“I admit it,” Val murmured softly with a light chuckle, shrugging one shoulder in a harmless sort of way. “I just… wanted to talk to you. Thought you were cute.”

Mitaka stiffened even further, his cheeks bursting into immediate color. The audacity, the stupidity, the foolishness… 

“S-si-... sir, I am your commanding officer!” Mitaka managed to hiccup out, sounding much more soft and vulnerable than he had intended to. 

Val smiled sweetly. 

Mitaka sneered at him. 

“This is… unethical and… practically forbidden in every way. May I suggest you turn to personal entertainment or-... or request leave and find yourself relief on the nearest planet.”

With that, Mitaka turned on his booted heel and stomped away. 

Over the next week or two, the lieutenant seemed to run into Sergeant Alcyon more and more. He saw him in the mess hall, both in line for a cup of caf. He saw him on the bridge, even as he tried to avoid the same shifts. He saw him in the officer’s fresher, a towel wrapped around his waist, the rest of him bare, bent over one of the locked cubby’s and rummaging for something within. 

Mitaka had stopped to stare, examining the lean torso, the freckles speckling his lightly tanned, pale skin, the ripple of muscle on his abdomen, the dark, suggestive hair between his hips, the little pooch of tummy fat implying decadence. 

He wondered where the man hailed from, which planet, if his parents were wealthy or not. His cheeks burning, his heart broiling with sudden lust, he clenched his teeth and unconsciously began to compare himself to the other male. 

Mitaka’s family were poor. They’d entered him into the Academy because they had no other options. He’d since disassociated with them, not by choice, but on recommendation. He’d had to scrape and push and struggle for every advancement.roving himself to General Hux had been a liferaft in the political intrigue of army rankings. 

Val Alcyon looked like he’d had everything in life handed to him on a platter. 

The young Sergeant raised and turned, catching Mitaka’s eye. Val grinned softly, the expression somehow a little shy, and he faced the Lieutenant head on. 

“... like what you see?”

Mitaka did not want to validate that with a response. He sighed and composed himself, turning instead to walk around the cubbies and into the corner, to choose one further away from the gentleman. He began to disrobe with furious intention, unaware that Val had followed him. 

“You know… other officers do it, all the time,” the sergeant muttered. 

Mitaka jumped and swung around, his jacket half off of him, but struggled to gather it, glaring murderously at the other man. 

“You-... I do not-... I am not like other officers,” he struggled to find something to say, settling instead on the first defense that popped into his mind. 

It was true. He’d been trained, in some small part, by General Hux himself. He heeded the man's advice, welcomed his guidance, and held his influence and mentorship in high regard. All of this to say that, when Hux advised him not to involve himself with any officer, noting it as unwise as it was unethical, Dopheld took his words to heart.

“I can see that,” Val muttered, seeming to deflate almost, his confidence not quite shattered, but certainly diminished. He frowned, ran a hand through his fluffy blonde hair, and shrugged slightly. “See you around then, sir.”

With that, he turned and made his way back to his cubby. Mitaka waited until he heard him pack up his belongings and leave, his face burning, his heart hammering away in his chest. 

The young man was quite handsome. The near nude image of him was burned on Mitaka’s brain. He tried focusing on something, anything else, but it accompanied him throughout the rest of his day; as he used the sonic shower, as he dressed, as he visited his various points of required duty. The sergeant followed him even to his unit’s officer’s dinner, lurking there in the back of his mind as he sipped from his wine glass. 

The pneumatic door slid open and someone new stepped in, an individual who so far had not been invited to the weekly officer’s dinner, because he was not in their unit. While the newcomer had just arrived, in truth he had already been there, a loitering specter in the mind of Lieutenant Mitaka, come now in physical form to torment him further. 

Mitaka choked and spluttered on his wine. 

General Hux, at the head of the table, rose to his feet and extended a hand, gesturing to an empty space beside Dopheld Mitaka, who was seated at Hux’s right hand. 

“Welcome Sergeant Alcyon. Please, sit.”

Val nodded, just barely refraining from smiling, then strode forward and pulled the chair out, sinking into the empty space without complication. He did not look over at the man beside him, but instead folded his gloved hands neatly in his lap. 

Mitaka glowered at him, taking him in from the corner of his eye. 

Alcyon appeared to be a head taller than himself, his hair combed back yet still lusciously thick on top, visible only as he had removed his cap for dinner. He smelled delightful, too, a scent like warm poppies and summer grass, reminding Dopheld of a day outside in sunshine, something he had not experienced in quite a long time. 

How dare he have the audacity to be here, to smell like that, to exist, and not even look at him or acknowledge his presence? Mitaka was offended, and took a long, deep drink of wine, breathing in through his nose after swallowing angrily. 

The dinner passed in much the typical, usual way. General Hux discussed business, barely picking at his food, issuing orders and requesting numbers and data. At some point in the dinner, at the request of a female officer across the table, he introduced Alcyon as a new Sergeant in their unit who would be helping the engineering staff. 

Mitaka grumbled beneath his breath. That meant he would be around. He would be around a lot more. 

He finished his fourth glass of wine. 

The protocol droid moved to fill his glass, but Hux flashed him a stern look. 

Mitaka normally would place his hand over his glass and deny the droid, based on the General’s recommendation, but the scent of that infuriating Sergeant was stuck in his nose, swimming in his head, and the blood was stirring near his cock at the memory of his cut hips, that stupid chubby pooch, the smooth expanse of his skin that would look so good peppered in little suckled hickies…

The protocol droid poured another glass of wine. Mitaka took it as soon as it had finished and downed half, resting it back down on the table, purposefully avoiding the General’s gaze. 

Hux’s jaw clenched, his fists as well, and he answered the next officer’s question in clipped tones. 

Val spent the entire meeting quiet and relatively submissive, speaking when spoken to, eating his food with a well-bred attitude, revealing he did indeed have roots in an old Empire family. But Mitaka was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore, especially with how flushed his cheeks were. With every glass of wine the man consumed, his expression was less and less controlled. His dark eyebrows were knitted together in consternation, his pink mouth pouty, his pretty brown eyes flashing irritated looks at the man next to him throughout the dinner. 

It was hard to obey protocol and not end the dinner early, retreat to his private quarters where he could handle his own arousal with a perfect mental image of this particularly attractive Lieutenant. 

General Hux ended the dinner for them soon anyway, and dismissed them all with a few words and a stern order to be at their required posts on time and as required. They all bid him good night and one by one trailed out of the dining room adjacent to Hux’s quarters. Mitaka was the first to leave, out of fear that if he lingered, he would get a talking to from General Hux. 

He was feeling particularly guilty in regards to the General, anyway, for how he was feeling, fueled by wine and arousal. The Lieutenant waited beside the door for all to leave, screwing up his courage as the sergeant appeared, stepping slightly in front of him, his gloved hands clenched. Val stopped, meeting his eyes, and both of them waited in silence for the rest of the officers to disperse. When they were alone, Val relaxed slightly, sliding both of his hands into his pockets, and peered down at Dopheld’s face, his lips pursed in a little smile. 

“Something the matter, Lieutenant?” he inquired softly. 

Mitaka glowered slightly at him. “I-... I require… your assistance, Sergeant.”

“Do you?” Val’s smile widened, unable to help it, finding the mildly inebriated Lieutenant quite adorable. “How can I help?”

“I-,” Mitaka began, taking a steadying breath, then drew himself up and straightened his uniform, then his hat, his expression serious. “There is-... a broken panel in my ceiling.”

Val’s lips parted, a heady rush of breath exiting him in mild excitement. 

“In… your room, sir?” he questioned. 

Mitaka’s lips pressed firmly together, eyes widening. But he nodded, just slightly. 

Val grinned. 

“Well… I suppose I could check it out. Anything for my commanding officer.”

Mitaka seemed to bristle at that, but he nodded curtly and turned in place. 

“Follow me, Sergeant.”

Mitaka tucked his hands behind his back and turned sharply on a booted heel, striding down the hallway with confidence and purpose, expecting Alcyon to follow him. He did so, less tense than the other man, admiring his shorter stature from behind, even spying his small, rounded ass in his black uniform. 

The Lieutenant stopped just before the door to his room, inputting his code and the pneumatic doors swished open. He gestured for Val to enter, glanced once or twice down the hall as he did so, then followed him within, the door closing behind him. He locked it with a few beeps on the console, swallowing hard, feeling his palms start to sweat within his gloves. 

He turned to face the other man, surprised to see Val already exploring the small space.

Val stroked his hands along the back of the small red sofa, drinking in the space with a slight grin. It was small, very small for an apartment, with a small wet-bar and an even smaller living space, one large open area that contained a full size bed in the back. There was a private fresher, but only with a human waste depository and sink. 

“Being a Lieutenant has its perks,” Val muttered softly, his hand still resting on the back of that sofa, giving Mitaka a little smile. “This room is about three times as big as mine, and I have a roommate.”

“A roommate?” Mitaka mumbled, wondering who this individual was. He would be male, of course, as was standard procedure to bunk the genders separately. 

Did Sergeant Alcyon like to play with this roommate, too? 

He shook his head, chastising himself for having an errant, jealous thought before he’d even decided what he was doing. He stood at a safe distance, studying the handsome young man, feeling altogether quite warm and dizzy. 

What was he doing? He was going to get into serious trouble…

Val examined his ceiling with a suspicious glare, an attractive curve set on his lips. 

“I’m not sure, sir,” he began in a low voice. “I don’t really see a damaged panel.”

Dopheld took a deep, steadying breath. 

It would be fine. He could indulge himself… just this once… 

No one would know. 

“It’s… over here,” Mitaka uttered, striding suddenly toward the back of the rectangular room, past the sofa, to stand beside the bed, so stiff he might be at attention. 

Val watched him go, head cocked slightly to the side, and took in his posture, the black covered bed behind him, the pink patches glowing in Dopheld’s cheeks. 

His heart hammered in his chest with excitement. Val felt like the Lieutenant might be toying with him, but he wasn’t sure he minded so much. He followed him, quite willingly, a bit like a puppy on a lead, and came to stop just before him, his hands against his thighs. 

They studied one another for a long moment, neither moving or speaking, then Val looked upward. 

“No, sir,” he mumbled with a little breathy laugh. “These panels… they’re fine, too.”

“I know.”

It was uttered quite strongly, emphatically, and Val looked down just in time to see Mitaka spring for him. He jolted in surprise as gloved hands caressed his face, and the shorter Lieutenant pushed up onto his toes, claiming his mouth with a hungry growl. 

The surprise faded almost immediately into impatient need, and Val wrapped his arms around the waist of the smaller man, pulling him in to press against his body, their bony hips crushing into one another, two erections sliding side by side, fitting almost like a puzzle. Mitaka was aggressive in his kissing, scraping Val’s lip with his teeth, pulling it away from his mouth, drawing a bit of blood, only to suck on it with a dark moan, his gloved hand tearing into his hair, so that Val’s cap toppled to the floor. Mitaka’s free hand bunched the collar of Val’s uniform in a tight fist. He yanked him down, pulling him over, so they stumbled and fell onto the bed, Val on top of him. 

“You… are going to fuck me,Val Alcyon,” Mitaka was breathing into his ear, his voice low with thrumming, hungry need. “And then you’re going to go to your room and never speak of this to anyone.”

Val tried to extricate himself, but the other male had looped his arms around his neck, holding him pinned above him, the Lieutenant’s legs parted wide so the length of Val’s body was cradled against his. 

“I-... yes, sir,” Val uttered with a slight, surprised laugh. 

Mitaka gave him another lip-bruising kiss, plunging his tongue possessively, hungrily, into his mouth, groaning to find Val’s hot, wet muscle rise to meet him with an affectionate press. 

Dopheld pulled away, a little string of saliva still joining their lips, and pressed a finger to Val’s mouth. 

“Lube is in the side table, top drawer,” he uttered darkly. “And you will continue to call me ‘sir’.”

“Yes, sir,” Val said warmly. 

The sergeant stood then, straightened his uniform, and picked up his cap, carrying it to the side table where he rested it, dusting it off. He didn’t want to end up with uniform demerits just for this. 

Mitaka watched him move the entire time, slipping his gloves off, unbuttoning his jacket, in a hurry to finish with the simple things. 

He felt like the sooner they could scratch this itch, the sooner Val would leave, and everything would be okay again. 

But as Val reached into the drawer and retrieved the bottle, then turned around and gave Mitaka a rather warm and beautiful smile, the Lieutenant’s heart skipped a few million beats in his chest. 

Damn, this guy was pretty. 

Dopheld watched him carefully, eyes narrowed, as Val returned. He sat up, reaching out with a bare hand, impatient, and grabbed onto the young Sergeant’s wrist, drawing the other man forward to stand between his parted legs. 

“Take this off,” Mitaka ordered him, tugging on the man’s uniform jacket with one hand, taking the bottle of lube in the other. 

Val studied him with softened, hooded eyes, nodding and removing his gloves, tossing them to the floor, to join the Lieutenants. He unbuttoned his jacket as hurriedly as he could, and Mitaka pushed it off his shoulders, running his hands down his lean arms, massaging the muscles as he did so. The jacket fell to the floor with a soft swish. 

Val moved to undo his belt buckle then, but Mitaka swatted his hands away, reaching for it himself, glancing up into those ice blue eyes and allowing himself the indulgence of a little smirk, causing the sergeant to burn color into his cheeks. 

The belt was undone quickly, the pants zipper loud as he yanked it down, and his pants were shoved to the ground. Val stumbled slightly as he stepped out of them, having to kick off his boots, and Mitaka laughed, a short, inebriated bark, as Val tipped forward and fell over him onto the mattress. 

Pinned, his face so close, Mitaka examined those pretty blue eyes, raising a hand to brush a strand of blonde hair out of his face. 

Val blushed fully, swallowed his nerves, stiffening in surprise as Mitaka’s hand traveled southward against his body, fingers curling around the outline of the package waiting for him beneath boxer briefs, laying firm against his belly. 

The sergeant groaned appreciatively, hanging his head down over Mitaka’s shoulder, grinding his length into the man’s palm, drawing a startled sigh of intrigue from him. Dopheld massaged him again, an illicit thrill of desire and longing purring through him as Val pressed a kiss to the bare skin of his throat and nuzzled his ear, sighing there, his warm breath fanning over his cool skin. 

“That… feels wonderful, sir,” Val admitted quietly. 

Mitaka blushed; he turned his head and stole a mildly chaste kiss from Val’s lips. 

“Up!” he ordered gruffly, shoving Val’s shoulder with a flat palm. “Remove the rest. And hurry.”

Val rolled to his side upon the bed and lifted upward, kicking his boots away into the corner, his pants falling in a rumple to the floor. Mitaka watched him hungrily, unaware he was biting his bottom lip, as Val sat up and lifted the undershirt away from his frame and tossed it, too, to the floor. His belly was extra poochy from the bent way he was sitting, and Mitaka stared at it, fascinated, unable to wait for the other man to finish undressing himself. He moved forward, leaned down over him, and pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the flesh there, laving it with his tongue. 

Val groaned, his skin jumping beneath the touch, ticklish, and let out a little, hesitant laugh. 

Mitaka grazed the skin with his teeth, sharply biting down, then opened his mouth again and planted against the flesh, sucking hard. Val’s fingers brushed through his hair, leaning back on one arm over the bed, and Mitaka pulled off of him with a pop, pleased to see a little red and purple mark begin to make itself known. He lapped at it, placing his palm over Alcyon’s cock once more, cuffing it slightly through the fabric. 

In this way, Mitaka worked his way over the man’s belly, leaving a trail of marks, some small and light, others wide and painfully dark. Those were the ones that had made Val squirm the most, elicited the deepest moans or most excited purrs of breath. He continued to massage that cock until his palm was numb, the length swollen and straining against the fabric, ready to taste. 

“Have you… ever been with a man before, Sergeant Alcyon?” Mitaka questioned, lowering himself to the floor and raising to his knees between the other man’s legs, hands on his thighs. 

Val’s eyes were blown wide, leaning back on his elbows, his cheeks a dark red.

“Y-... yes,” Val replied weakly. 

“Yes what?” Mitaka demanded, turning his head to bite the innermost part of Val’s thigh, resulting in a soft breath of excited pain. 

“Yes, sir,” the sergeant uttered without hesitation, his lips playing with yet another pretty smile. 

“How many?” Mitaka questioned again, his fingers dipping into the waistband of the boxer briefs, beginning to work them down. His eyes remained pinned on that dark line of hair, watching it with excited anticipation as inch by inch, more was revealed. 

“Just-... just two,” Val barely whispered. “One before the Order, one at the-... the Academy.”

“Three, then,” Mitaka said with a slight smirk, gasping in wonder and delight as Val’s cock was freed from the cloth, springing slightly upward in it’s swollen and needy state. 

He slid the boxers out from under him and down Val’s legs, off his socked feet and threw them away. 

“Three, sir?” Val questioned, not stupid. He just wanted to hear him say it. 

The Lieutenant rose to his knees and leaned forward, placing his fingertips delicately against the soft, velvet skin of him. 

“Me,” he uttered delicately, lowering his head to take just the tip of him into his mouth. 

He only wanted a taste, just a small one. He’d rather the other man cum inside him, but he’d be damned if he was going to let this gorgeous boy walk out of here without a bite. 

There was no time to savor this. Mitaka was too wound up, too tight, too worried about his reputation and this stupid decision. His head was spinning with lust, with longing, with delight, with curiosity at how pliant and sweet this man was being, how he couldn’t stop fucking smiling.

That wasn’t very First Order of him. But Mitaka found that he adored it. 

He watched the other man’s face as he bobbed his head down his relatively normal lengthed cock, sputtering slightly at the large girth of him. He pulled back, to calm his reflexes, and laved at the top with his tongue, feeling the foreskin pucker and begin to draw back. Somehow that little feel, that little notion, was enough to excite him, and he felt a dollop of liquid seep from the head of his own prick, closing his eyes and sucking extremely delicately at the sensitive head. 

Val groaned, his head tilting to the side to rest on his shoulder. Mitaka opened his eyes to study him. 

He was still smiling. 

Dopheld pulled off of him and mouthed down his shaft, following with laps of his tongue, making sure to stroke the veins there, sending visible shivers down Val’s body. He raised his palm and cupped his balls, massaging them with his fingertips, then swallowed his tip again and bobbed it back, hard, to the back of his throat, groaning at the feel of him there, and Val tensed, thrusting upward, crying out a soft, sad little sound. 

“I-... h-hey… I’m gonna-,” Val uttered, his cheeks fully red now, his eyes slitted open to peer down at the man. “Be careful-...”

Dopheld pulled off him with a pop and stood up, leaning in over him to claim his mouth with another kiss. 

“Right. I got carried away,” Mitaka mumbled softly, drawing a fingertip down Val’s jawline. 

He stepped away and began to shed his own uniform, not once breaking eye contact with Val. He’d never seen such pretty eyes. The only pair that came close were the General’s, but his didn’t look at him like this, like they were undressing him more than skin-deep, delving into the heart and soul of him, eager to see past the surface. 

Mitaka began to think dangerous thoughts. Perhaps this didn’t have to be a one time thing… perhaps they could become adept at hiding it; avoid one another in public and just meet here, daily, to enjoy one another… 

But he knew, as he climbed into the other man’s lap, straddling him with his thighs perched on the mattress, that such thoughts were foolishness. 

This could not continue. 

“Fucking hell, sir,” Val mumbled softly, staring down at the Lieutenant’s newly freed cock. 

Mitaka blushed and pouted slightly, his hands looping together behind Val’s neck. 

“It’s rude to stare,” he mumbled, biting onto Val’s lip in punishment. 

He shifted and their erect cocks bumped, causing both young men to blush, sending jolts of electricity crawling beneath their skin. 

“Is… this how you want me?” Val inquired softly, running his hands slowly up the Lieutenant’s soft thighs, tentatively, as if seeking permission. When Mitaka did not stop him, he gripped his ass in his palms, delighted at the solid feel of him, squeezing slightly and drawing a sighing moan from his lips. 

“Yes,” Mitaka slid closer, tilting his head and nudging his nose to the other man’s. “I like to be on top.”

Val grinned at the mild joke, inching a finger between his cheeks, beginning to rim him slowly with broad, tender strokes. 

“I appreciate that, sir,” Val uttered softly, the hand not entertaining his lieutenant reaching back to seek the abandoned bottle of lube on the bed. “You are many ranks above me. It’s only fitting.”

“Speaking of fitting…,” Mitaka licked his lips and glanced downward again, staring at Val’s relatively impressive size. He wasn’t worried, but it was something he could be bossy with. “Make sure to take good care of me, Sergeant.”

Val paused, looking like he took that particular statement to mean something else entirely. His eyes were suddenly hyper focused, intent, his brows narrowed slightly, and he nodded with a serious set of his chin. 

“Of course, sir. I’d love to take care of you,” he uttered gently. 

Mitaka had to look away. His gaze was burning him up. 

Val leaned in to the space created by the turn of his head, nipping soft, almost loving kisses against the expanse of flesh between his shoulder and neck, sweet, open-mouthed kisses with little dabs of his tongue, pulling his hand away momentarily to squirt a dollop of lube onto his fingertips. 

Mitaka hooked his arms beneath Val’s, laying them against his back and gripping his shoulders, leaning into him to give him easier access, and Val snaked his hand down between his cheeks once more, smoothing the lube around. Mitaka gasped at the sudden cold on his skin and Val laughed, prodding a pad of his finger inward against his entrance, rimming him again, slowly, massaging in hypnotic loops until the lieutenant was rocking against him and whining with need. 

He prepped him with his fingers, not sparing with the lube, certain Mitaka would never summon him back here again if he didn’t prepare him properly. The lieutenant seemed to appreciate this, as he had taken to covering Val with more hickies: on his neck, his shoulders, his bicep, wherever he could reach, moaning softly as he was plumbed fully by Val’s artful touch. 

“I-... I’m ready,” Dopheld muttered, nipping Val’s earlobe, whining and desperate. “Just-... just do it- … already.”

“Not quite yet, sir,” Val managed, turning his face toward him with a sweet smile. “Scoot forward a bit, if you please.”

Mitaka did as asked, his cock bending slightly against Val’s soft abdomen, groaning at the feeling, the pressure. But closer like this, Val had further reach, and his three fingers ventured deeper, massaging the gland and muscles within, causing Lieutenant Mitaka’s back to arch, his nails digging into the man’s shoulder blades from behind, his lips parting with a heady sigh. Val kept this up for a minute longer, content to watch Mitaka’s face of pleasure, staring at him, studying him, his own expression one of intense delight and longing. 

“Val-,” Mitaka uttered, knowing at this angle, his fingers would never be enough to get him there. It was teasing, only. “Val-... please.”

Val paused, his fingers stilling within him, and he stared at Mitaka in curious wonder. 

Mitaka’s eyes popped open and he tensed, glancing down at him. 

“You-... called me Val.”

“Ser-... Sergeant,” Mitaka grumbled, his face almost purple. It was so red. “Sergeant, fuck me, now. That’s an order.”

Val removed his fingers and rested his hand on the mattress, raising a brow at him. 

Mitaka growled and raked his nails down Val’s back, causing the man to tense, to groan, but still he did not touch him, merely studying him with narrowed eyes. 

“Okay, fine!” Mitaka snapped, pinching Val’s jaw in one hand and drawing him closer, giving him a soft, suckling kiss. “I-... did call you Val, and if it pleases you… will you fuck me?”

Val smiled again, that same sort of heady smile that made Mitaka’s head spin. 

“What’s your name?” Val demanded. 

Mitaka frowned, his eyes shining as if he might cry. 

“Seriously? We’re both hard as hell and you want to exchange names?”

Val’s smile did not fade. 

“I’d like to moan it when I cum inside you,” he uttered breathlessly. “It’s only fair, since you have mine.”

Mitaka pursed his lips, stroked his fingers up into Val’s hair, tugged slightly to have his vengeance, but acquiescing with a sigh. 

“It’s Dopheld.”

Val reached for the lubricant with an excited laugh and a smile, handing it to Dopheld and gesturing down with a nod. 

Hands trembling slightly, over eager with need, Dopheld applied an abundant amount down the erect length of the other man, watching it begin to run slightly, viscous gel sliding down the hot and hard sides of him. Before he could even toss the bottle down, Val’s hands were cupping his ass cheeks, and he’d scooted him forward, leaning back on the bed at an angle to make it easier for Dopheld to ride him. 

Mitaka took the hint and rose on his thighs, keeping contact with those bright, brilliant blue eyes while he reached behind him for the man’s slick cock. They maintained eye contact as the tip bumped against him, and even still as Mitaka sank down onto him, back arching, throat tight with a heady groan as Val helped inch himself in with miniscule thrusts, until the lieutenant was fully seated upon him. 

He felt so full; stretched. It was delicious. It had been so long. He lay his hands on Val’s chest, stroking him distractedly as he lifted his ass and lowered again, sufficiently slicked, feeling him move and stretch and swell within him. 

“Yes,” he uttered on a small breath, and he began to move in earnest, greedly clenching his muscles around Val’s erect cock as he began to gain a subtle rhythm. 

Val watched him with a slight smile, unable to keep it full on his face, because he was in agony. It had been a while for him, too, and the sensations were so perfect. He struggled to keep his head in the game, keep his cock reined in, everything so hypersensitive, so perfect, so wonderful. Mitaka picked up speed, a tiny moan of delight leaving him every time he rose and fell on his cock, and Val assisted him, bucking his hips upward, angling to try and hit that sweet spot, just for him. 

Mitaka’s hand bunched around his own cock, cuffing rapidly as their pace increased, the bed shaking, rattling and slamming into the wall, dark strands of hair sliding down and against his cheek. Val brushed him away, taking over the job for him, near to busting a nut just from the velvety feel of this sexy man in his palm, the firm, rigidity of him beneath the soft shell. He fisted him, stroking him rhythmically, gasping for air, doing his best to earn every moan. 

“H-harder,” Mitaka demanded. Val obeyed him, tilting up on his toes, his knees forcing Mitaka to slide forward, and at that angle, he slipped deeper, ramming into that sweet spot without mercy, Dopheld’s ass cheeks shaking from the thrusts. The lieutenant threw his head back and barked out a moan, tightening his hands on Val’s chest, scratching deep red marks with his fingernails, and with a drawn out shout of “Val”, he came, his cum squirting in a hot, thin stream all over his hands, Val’s belly and chest, speckles of it dashing on his cheek. 

Val grinned, panting hot and heavy, releasing Mitaka’s cock to grip his ass cheeks in both hands, and went fully for it, hard, heavy thrusts rocking the man above him. 

The room filled with a long, dark moan of Dopheld’s name as the man beneath him filled him with cum, finishing his thrusts with slow, firm motions of his hips, bucking into him, drizzles of warm, white liquid sliding between his balls and to the mattress beneath. 

He slipped out of him, falling still and limp below, and Mitaka leaned over, licking the little specks of cum from his cheeks, then kissed him, plunging his tongue into his mouth to share a taste. 

Val’s hands wound into his hair, stroked his cheeks, and pulled him down over him. Dopheld allowed it, and was rolled over the mattress, tucked in against his body, their legs entwined. Val’s arms wrapped around his chest and drew him close, and Mitaka pressed his mouth into his hair, inhaling his smell. 

Summer poppies… swaying grass in a warm breeze… and the scent of sex. 

Val was kissing his collarbone lazily, sweetly. 

Mitaka began to stroke his soft hair. 

Neither of them spoke. Val was afraid to, afraid he’d be kicked out like a dog, when all he really wanted to do was stay and get to know Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka better. 

Mitaka was torn between desire and duty. But… he’d already broken one rule. What was one more? 

“Would you… like a drink?” Mitaka murmured, his entire tone and nature hesitant. 

Val’s lips stilled against his throat. He pulled away, glanced up into his face, expression vulnerable and soft. 

“You’re… not kicking me out?”

MItaka chewed his bottom lip, examining Val’s blonde lashes, noting how they seemed almost non existent from afar. Up close were really, very pretty. 

“I should.”

Val grinned. 

“But?”

“But you still haven’t fixed my ceiling panel.”

Val laughed. MItaka thought the sound was quite beautiful. 

“Where are you from?” he asked finally, eager to settle this question that had been irking him for so long. 

“Ah-... farming colony on Lothal,” Val admitted with a light frown. “My parents own a lot of land… they run the serfs there and make them tend it. My family's been in the business since the days of the Empire.”

That explained the decadence, the wealth, the ease he had found in the Academy and in the First Order. Mitaka frowned as well, studying his expression. A curious thought occurred to him. 

“Why… why are you happy all the time?”

Val’s lips quirked, his smile slight and small. He shrugged, leaning up on one elbow, propping his head in his palm, stroking two fingers down Mitaka’s bare shoulder, a light, ticklish yet lovely feeling. 

“People ask me that. I only do it around people who-... who have an effect on me. I guess I just… think you’re special or something. So I light up.”

“You barely know me,” Dopheld countered with a deadpan expression. 

“Hmmmm,” Val made a strange sound of acknowledgement, then shook his head. “I-... know that Kylo Ren treats you like shit and that you deserve a chance to grab him by the balls and squeeze. I know you’re wicked smart, cause General Hux depends solely on you, if the rumors are true. Which means you’re also pretty loyal. I know that you’re submissive to those above you, but… as I learned tonight, you like a bit of control.”

Mitaka blushed as Val chuckled at the last bit, his fingers still stroking slowly up and down his shoulder. 

“You-... how can you… you can’t know all that,” he muttered, beside himself. 

“Am I wrong?” Val countered, sounding not disappointed, but willing for Mitaka to set him straight.

Dopheld stared at him, studied him, then after a moment, shook his head. 

Instead of answering him, he leaned in and took Val’s mouth in a slow, gently sweet kiss, the most tender he’d given since the sergeant had set foot in his room. Val deepened it with a happy sigh, drawing the lieutenant closer, cupping his cheek in his warm palm, their bodies pressing together. 

Val broke it first, for a little gasp of air, and Mitaka grabbed hold of his chin with two fingers, holding him still. 

“Okay, Sergeant Alcyon,” he murmured softly, his tone light, slightly sweet. “You’re going to have a drink with me. You’re going to kiss me goodnight and go back to your room. Tomorrow, you’re going to act like nothing has happened when you see me in the halls.”

Val nodded, his expression soft, slightly sad, but understanding. 

Mitaka went on. 

“Then tomorrow evening…,” he trailed off, meeting Val’s gaze with his own, warm brown on ice blue, both so hopeful. 

“Tomorrow evening you come back here for more.”

Val grinned, beside himself with joy. He nodded, leaned forward to claim another kiss, before murmuring softly against his lips “Yes, sir.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part to Val and Mitaka's story: how they fell in love and how they fell apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not entirely happy with this chapter. It's hella long and some parts feel sort of out of place, but I'm tired of working on it and it's just fanfiction, so I'm not gonna fry my brain trying to get it perfect. Hope that doesn't offend you! 
> 
> Just so you know, this chapter will start out really happy and then end HORRIBLY. This is not the end of Val and Mitaka's story, but it will be a while before another update. Just stay strong! 
> 
> Thank you for reading.

Val Alcyon came from an oldblood Empire family. They lived on Lothal: wealthy landowners who rented plots of land out to farmers, pseudo royalty without the title. One of two children, but as the only male heir, his family coddled him, doted upon him like the golden child they believed him to be. There were no rules, aside from those of social standard: do not embarrass the family, do not make a mess you cannot clean up yourself, and do not bring shame to the Alcyon name. 

His mother and father had been so proud the day he’d enlisted for the First Order Officer’s Academy. His mother had cried, great buckets of tears, and kissed him a million times, though she’d hardly shown him such affections prior to his acceptance. His father shook his hand, firmly, his own eyes misty, and declared how proud he was of Val, how far he would go, how the First Order needed strapping young men like him in their ranks. 

The only thing was, Val Alcyon didn’t give a kriff about any of it. He didn’t believe in the Order because he didn’t believe in anything, instead adopting a very blase attitude about life in general. Who ruled the galaxy didn’t bother him one bit as long as he and his loved ones were fed, happy, and well. He joined the Order to make his parents proud, to have something to do, spoiled rich brat that he was. 

But Val Alcyon was also a dedicated and hard worker. He did not take his position in the Order lightly, and did his very best to accomplish everything set before him to the best of his ability. This behavior landed him on the Allegiant General’s ship as his first post, and though his rank was small, his parents believed working on such an important flagship was a sign that Val Alcyon was going to go far. 

He had been content to agree with that, allowing his ambitions to match their own. That is, until he became distracted by a pair of pretty brown eyes and a tidy coiff of black hair on a short, adorably uptight and easily panicked young man. 

Sergeant Alcyon had first spotted Lieutenant Mitaka in the halls of the  _ Steadfast _ marching quickly toward the bridge. His face was squinted up into extreme concentration, his slighter body looking as if he was tightly wound with stress, as if he needed something or someone to force him to relax. Val had noted him as one of the more beautiful individuals on board the vessel, then went about his day. 

The second time they crossed paths was in the mess hall, when a taller, lower ranked officer had spilled his caf all down the front of Mitaka’s uniform. 

“How  _ dare  _ you?!” Mitaka had sneered, throwing up a pointed finger into the face of the cowering officer. 

“It was an accident, sir,” the poor officer stammered. 

Mitaka, nostrils flaring as he fumed, lowered his hand and cocked it onto one hip, a decidedly not so masculine gesture. And as the taller officer leaned in with a napkin, jerking it down the Lieutenant’s torso, trying to sop up the caf, MItaka’s face turned a dark shade of red, and he slapped the man’s hands away, no longer looking angry, but more put out that someone would dare lay hands on him. 

But Val caught the way his eyes flickered up toward the officer’s face. Val noticed when Mitaka noticed that the officer was handsome. 

The third time, Val was already starting to crush hard on the spitfire Lieutenant, but it was not until this third time that he’d made any active decision to act on his feelings. He knew having a relationship with someone who ranked above him was taboo and unethical, against the rules. 

He didn’t mind breaking rules, but it had to be worth it. 

He was due for a shift on the Bridge, and as he entered the room, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren was leaving. Val side-stepped him quickly, more a reaction to avoid punishment than out of fear, and continued into his work area. 

Lieutenant Mitaka was standing hunched in the corner, his hand over his face, shoulders shaking with dry sobs. 

Val stopped feet away, hoping not to be noticed, to avoid embarrassing him, then slowly backed out of the room again to give him privacy.

It did not take long to put two and two together, to realize that Dopheld Mitaka was typically the one whom Kylo Ren took out his anger on, for some absurd reason. But the stoic way he composed himself, the way he dedicated himself to his work, even knowing how much he hated it, Val was impressed enough to want to break the rules for him, leading to that fateful day when he’d hit on Mitaka on the bridge. 

A romantic at heart, it was not long before all Val did for his parents, for the First Order, he truly did for Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka. 

The lieutenant was not easy to win over. He made Val work for it, but he was more than happy to put in the effort. 

After their first hookup, Dopheld made a point to avoid seeing or speaking to Val the entire next day. But, later that night, holding fast to his confidence, Val had knocked at the Lieutenant‘s door. Dopheld accepted him in, and quickly melted to liquid putty in his more than capable hands. 

Sex was easy with Lieutenant Mitaka. The other stuff was harder. 

But Val was determined. 

When he’d see him in the mess hall, Val made a habit of sitting with him. Mitaka ignored him the first few times, his cheeks red, his eyes downcast on his datapad, sipping slowly and demurely from a cup of caf, avoiding him entirely. For days this was their routine, but Val considered it a victory that Mitaka did not send him away. 

Once, Val followed him to the archives, a quiet study on board designed for research and development needs. There, Dopheld was browsing digital files, alone, and Val had snuck up behind him. Leaning over his shoulder, he pressed a light little peck to his cheek. 

“Off me at once!” the Lieutenant shouted, and before Val could defend himself, had spun on one heel and socked his fist forward. 

Val doubled over with a grunt, the air escaping from within him in a slight groan. 

“A-Alcyon…!” Mitaka uttered, noticing him. His cheeks turned bright pink. 

Val’s groan turned into laughter as he rose up to half his full height, holding an arm around his middle. 

“Damn, you hit hard. It was just a kiss.”

“An … inappropriate one in a public space during work hours. Good day, Sergeant,” and with a haughty sniff and a raised chin, Mitaka swept from the room. 

That night, Val did not go to Mitaka’s room, as he had almost every night for a week and a half. 

The next morning, he did not sit next to Mitaka at breakfast. 

The next night, at their dinner with General Hux, Val sat at the end of the table between two other officers, instead of next to the Lieutenant. 

The same evening, Val left the dinner quickly and began to make his way back to his room, but as he rounded the corner toward the lesser officer’s barracks, he was snagged by the wrist and pulled into a pitch black alcove beside a storage unit, pressed into the wall by a shorter figure, whose hands were already working at his belt buckle. 

“Are you drunk again, sir?” Val laughed, massaging a hand down the man’s thigh and around to squeeze his right buttcheek.

Mitaka groaned out in a huffy breath as he got Val’s pants open, a gloved palm plunging inside to wrap around the base of him. 

“Just-... claiming what’s rightfully mine,” Mitaka hissed at him. 

“Oh-... yours now, am I?” Val uttered as a challenge, his eyes twinkling. But his cheeks were red, and hope was blossoming in his chest. 

“You know you are, Val Alcyon,” Mitaka breathed against him, leaning up to nip at his earlobe, stroking his cock with needy caresses. “Don’t ever skip coming to see me again, unless you have a proper excuse.”

Val Alcyon fell in love with Dopheld Mitaka, hard and fast. 

Lieutenant Mitaka was a walking contradiction of emotion and reaction: bashful but controlling, confident as well as needy, bossy as well as soft. He was kind to his inferiors, yet stern and snappy with them, and in the face of adversity, strong and resolute to work well and hard, despite the treatment he received from individuals like Kylo Ren. And beneath his rough exterior was a soft and tender heart that revealed itself in still moments. 

After Mitaka claimed him, Val clung to his heels like a puppy, and hung on his every word. 

“... the Order is vital and strong, and is doing all that it can to reach out into the Galaxy to free those from tyranny and- … what are you doing?” Mitaka cut off in the middle of the propaganda he’d been reading from, eyes flicking up from the datapad. 

Val grinned, his finger pausing within his mug of caf, having dipped it in to stir the cream. 

“Disgusting,” Mitaka grumbled, but he flushed at how the smile on Val’s face made him seem more handsome. He picked up the spoon from his tray and handed it over with a raised brow. 

Val took it, making certain to brush over Mitaka’s exposed wrist with his gloved touch before taking the spoon. 

The Lieutenant shivered and averted his eyes, shifting on the bench and clearing his throat. 

“Keep reading,” the Sergeant muttered in a quiet voice, stirring his caf with the spoon but staring at the dark-haired male beside him. 

With a deep breath and another flush to his cheeks, Mitaka went on. 

“To free those from tyranny and set right the paths of economy and equity within our great Galaxy. The First Order longs to bring salvation and hope to those who-,”

“Wait,” Val interrupted, now leaning on the table, his head in his hand, elbow propping him up. “Read that bit again: ‘set right the paths of economy and equity’”. 

Mitaka flushed, mildly irritated, and waved a gloved palm. “Why, if you know what I said?”

“Just do it,” Val insisted, a smile playing about his lips as he sipped from his mug. 

With a large sigh, Mitaka repeated the words, rolling his eyes as he did so, then looked to Val for his reaction. 

“I love how you say the word ‘equity’,” Val murmured softly, gazing at Mitaka’s lips, his eyes, then back to his lips again. “Your lips purse on the ‘q’ and it’s quite attractive.”

Mitaka turned dark purple and ducked his chin down toward his jacket, his fists tightening on the datapad. Val looked the other way, sipping his caf again, but slipped his palm beneath the table and pat the other man on the thigh, consolingly, but in just the right place to drive him mad. 

The Lieutenant punished him thoroughly for it that night in his room, edging his orgasm until Val was actually crying with need. 

Val started sleeping over in Mitaka’s room, every now and then, slipping out a few hours before shift changes to ready himself in his bunk. The men did not get much sleep, however, when they did so, not so much from sexual activity, but what came after. 

“Lothal is the home of the loth-cat, right?” Mitaka asked one evening, feeling very warm and sated and safe, wrapped in a blanket and tucked into Val’s side. The blonde’s arms and legs were wrapped around him, and his face rested against Mitaka’s neck, so that every word he spoke released a warm breath that tickled deliciously. 

“Yeah. I’ve had lots of them, though my favorite was Frysta.”

Mitaka blushed at the warm breath on his neck, nestling in closer unconsciously. 

“Frysta? Is that a name?”

“Mmm-hmmm,” Val uttered warmly and then, as if reading Mitaka’s thoughts, pressed a soft-lipped kiss to his neck. “Frysta was an all-white loth-cat I had as a kid. She was an utter bitch and I loved her for it. Couldn’t stand anyone but me.”

Mitaka shivered as Val laughed at the memories, the feel of it on his neck sending shivers up and down his spine. 

“She’d bring me dead animals, which my mother hated, so naturally I loved it.”

Mitaka turned in Val’s arms, glancing up into his face. 

“I’ve never had a pet,” Mitaka admitted softly, his tone a little sad. 

“No?” Val stroked down Mitaka’s side over the blanket, then leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. “Why not?”

Mitaka flushed slightly, feeling a torrent of butterflies spaz in his stomach, but his expression was serious. 

“My parents thought it frivolous… a waste of money, just… another mouth to feed.”

Val studied him quietly for a long time, blue eyes soft and warm. 

“When the war is over, you shall have a pet. In the meantime, you have me.”

Mitaka could not help the laugh that escaped him as Val leaned in and nibbled at his neck, letting out a soft replication of a loth-cats purr, his tongue darting out to flick against his flesh. 

“Stop, you’re gross,” Mitaka whined, though his tone was lighthearted with mirth. He turned and pressed his hand over Val’s mouth, studying his eyes. “Does that mean… you will cease to be my pet after the war?”

Val radiated with pure hope and joy. He pulled Mitaka’s hand away from his face, held it gently in his, then raised it to his lips and kissed his knuckles, one by one, so gently. 

“I will be whatever you want me to be, Lieutenant, now, and after the war.”

Mitaka was a proud young man, a young man who had to grab control where he could and cling tightly to it, for so many other parts of his life were out of control.Val loved to give him free reign of that control over him, knowing that it made him stronger, loving how it buoyed him with strength and dignity and pride. Val was more than happy to become that safe space for him, and Mitaka soon began to depend on him for his respite.

As a result, their relationship deepened, and Mitaka talked about Kylo Ren. 

“He feels threatened by Hux, and because I’m so loyal to him, Ren picks on me,” Mitaka rambled one evening, seated on the red sofa of his quarters in naught but his underwear. 

Val handed him a gin and tonic, sliding up beside him on the sofa, equally nude, and pulled a blanket over their forms. 

Mitaka turned and tucked himself into Val’s side, easily and automatically, as if it was where he belonged and where he’d always been. 

“I just wish, for once, someone could give him a taste of his own medicine,” Mitaka went on, his eyes flashing with anger, heart hammering hard in his chest as he got worked up. “If someone could… beat him up, too, choke him… rough him up a little. I hate that he targets me.”

Val kissed the top of Mitaka’s head, inhaling the scent of his hair and burning thoroughly with the joy he associated with that smell. He sighed, sipping from his own beverage, then tipped a finger under Mitaka’s chin, drawing him closer. 

“Kylo Ren is an asshole, and he’ll get what’s coming to him,” Val murmured, brushing his lips ever so lightly to his lovers. “Tell me about Hux. Why are you so loyal to him?”

The distraction worked. Mitaka’s eyes lit up, his face becoming more animated as he began to speak. 

“General Hux is the perfect embodiment of First Order values. He genuinely cares for the Galaxy, though some say he’s cruel, he wants to end slavery and poverty and bring peace to our Galaxy.”

Val grinned and nodded, humming agreements in the right places as Mitaka rambled on. 

“He personally picked me to be on his team, and said he was impressed with my work in the Academy. I rose quickly in rank because of him.”

Val frowned slightly, and tapped Mitaka on the forehead with one finger. 

“Because he noticed your brain. It’s you that’s special, Dopheld.”

Mitaka flushed and burned head to toe, and their conversations ended for the evening as they got lost in the touch and taste of one another on the sofa. 

Mitaka hardly spoke about his home life before the First Order. The only person in his life he had anything good to say about was General Hux. He truly believed in the Order because General Hux believed in it. The Order had become his life, in the absence of a home life to be tethered to.

“You joined for your parents?” Mitaka sniffed as Val admitted it one day, making it quite apparent he did not approve. 

Val could not help but smile lazily, already so enamored with the other man that he could not find his words annoying or obnoxious, even when he was cross with him. He reached across the red sofa and took his hand, entwining their fingers. Mitaka allowed it to happen; did not squeeze back. 

“Does it matter that I don’t share the same values? I’m here, aren’t I?” Val muttered softly, examining his love with warm eyes. 

Mitaka wavered, mouth opening and closing as he tried to decide what to say. 

“It’s individuals like you who weaken the Order, you know? We must all believe in it’s might in order for it to succeed.”

Val smoothed a thumb along the back of Mitaka’s hand, humming softly. 

“Are you going to turn me in?”

Dopheld sputtered, shaking his head, glaring at him as if the very idea was preposterous. 

“I-... I should,” he grumbled, then shook his head. “But no… I won’t. I’m too… too-,”

“Yes?” Val waited with bated breath, his heart stilling in his chest. 

“I’d be alone if you went back to Orientation,” was all Mitaka would say on the matter. 

Val wanted to frown, but even that small admission of loneliness seemed like a good sign to him. He grinned, leaning in and tipping Mitaka’s chin up with a finger, loitering with a long stare at those pretty pouting and pink lips. 

“I won’t leave you,” Val promised in a soft breath. 

Mitaka’s face softened, his eyes warm and molten. He leaned forward and snapped a quick kiss from Val’s lips, impatient as ever. 

Val deepened it, pinning his arms on either side of the other male’s shoulders against the red sofa. As Val increased in ardor, Mitaka somehow shied, as if the seriousness of the blonde’s statement had caused him to malfunction somewhat. He parted his lips to receive Val’s kisses with a whimper, his tongue hesitantly flicking forward to receive a touch. His gloved hands groped forward, blindly, eyes closed, and he palmed at Val’s uniform jacket, untucking it from the belt. 

Val broke the kiss with a breezy chuckle, pulling back to meet Mitaka’s stare. 

“I’m on duty in an hour,” Val uttered reluctantly. “There isn’t enough time.”

“Tell them… I was chastising you,” Mitaka countered, his voice whining slightly as he began to undo the buttons on Val’s jacket. “I’ll give you demerits.”

“I don’t want demerits.”

It was said against Mitaka’s lips, a little whisper, but Val claimed his mouth once more, firm and needy in the way he nipped the other man’s full, bottom lip. 

“Oh look,” Mitaka scolded him as he pressed the jacket off the Sergeant’s finely sculpted arms, causing it to bunch and wrinkle as it gathered around his wrists. “Wrinkles. That’s a demerit, Sergeant.”

Val gave Mitaka a wry look, his lips playing between a look of irritation and a smirk. He whipped the jacket off his wrists, then, shaking it out and folding it neatly to avoid as many creases as possible, then lay it gently on the floor a safe distance away. Mitaka was grinning as if they’d just won the entire war. 

“Infuriating…,” Val muttered, scooting closer along the sofa and pressing over Mitaka’s lap, cupping his cheek in his palm. He did not kiss his mouth, but his neck, nipping there, then bit down punishingly. Mitaka floundered, shoving against his shoulder and protesting, but Val was suckling him there, and his hands grew weak, his head tilting as he let out a quiet, pleasured moan. Val bobbed his head, marking him well, then sealed it with a kiss and swirl of his tongue, breathing a laugh over the damp spot that sent shivers down Mitaka’s spine. 

“Have fun explaining that one to General Hux,” Val murmured. 

Mitaka grabbed him by the hair and tugged his head back, leaning in and flat out biting his lip, causing Val to groan slightly in pleasurable discomfort. 

“You little… I can’t stand you,” he lied, his cheeks burning, tips of his ears pink. “It’ll fade with a bacta patch.”

“Then why are you mad?” Val questioned with a laugh, pulling out of Mitaka’s grip and resting one palm flat on the sofa seat between the lieutenant’s legs, shoulder pressed into his, sliding as close as he could without climbing into the man’s lap. 

Mitaka’s cheeks were still burning and he refused to meet Val’s eye. 

“You don’t want it to fade,” Val remarked as if a light bulb had just clicked on in his head. “You want people to see… I want that, too.”

He bumped his nose into Mitaka’s, causing him to meet his stare, and those brown eyes were vulnerable once more, soft and pliant, pleased. 

Val almost told him he loved him, then and there. He wanted to, more than anything. But Mitaka had to say it first. 

He was content with saying it a million times in his head, leaning in toward the other man and pecking small, butterfly soft kisses to his pouty mouth. 

“Forty-five minutes now, Sergeant,” Mitaka reminded him, eying the clock over the blonde’s shoulder. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

Val did not hesitate, but slid the palm that was between his legs up against his crotch and palmed him through his trousers, cupping him and rubbing slowly, tentatively up and down, feeling the soft curve of his balls down below, the hardening length of him, tensing up in his trousers. Mitaka leaned back into the sofa with a happy sigh, his arms outstretched along the back. 

The sound of a belt buckle coming undone, buttons snapping, and a zipper pulled down happened within quick succession of one another. Mitaka shifted in his seat as Val helped work his pants down his hips a little, examining the other male with an intense gaze of possessive longing. Val loved it; longed to be owned by him, not minding it in the least, and worked his glove off of his right hand with his teeth, handing it up to Mitaka. 

“Hold this, please, my dear,” he uttered softly, the term of endearment slipping with ease off of his romantic tongue. 

Mitaka took it in one hand, his face screwing up in slight discomfort, but he was redder than ever, and gasped hard for air as Val drew down the hem of his boxer briefs with two warm fingers. 

His cock sprung free, slowly, like an opening rosebud in the spring. Val scooted back on the sofa and lowered his head in one quick move, taking that pulsating bit of Mitaka straight into his mouth. 

He suckled first, not too hard, working on building up his saliva. Val laved at the velvety tip of him, swirling until the sounds of building liquid were audible, and Mitaka clenched his fist tight over the glove Val had given him to hold, raising the hand to cover his mouth with the back of his hand to bury the intensity of his moan. 

When sufficiently wet, Val opened his mouth wide, puffed out his cheeks, and slid himself over the erect cock, focusing on loosening the back of his throat, humming a purr of contentment as the tip bumped into the back of his throat. He gagged slightly, but swallowed the reflex, and pressed on until he felt his throat give, soft and pliant, and make way for the shape of him.

Mitaka barked out a moan, his hips bucking, and Val spluttered, grasping the man’s hips to keep him still. He slid off of him with a laugh, saliva drooling onto Mitaka’s hip bone, then wiped his lips, giving him a chastising look. 

“Don’t… thrust yet, okay? When I point to my hair, I want you to grab on, and then you can go wild.”

Mitaka met his gaze and nodded, his own eyes blown wide, wondering if Val really meant it. 

_ Go wild _ . 

He’d make it so Val had so many demerits on his shift, and he wouldn’t feel sorry about it. He was going to mess up that pretty blonde hair of his. 

All thoughts of what he’d like to do fled his mind as Val lowered his mouth onto him once more, taking the whole of him inside, his tongue pulsating along the velvety edge of him. It felt so deliciously good. Mitaka had to fight to keep his hands still, as Val angled himself downward, taking more and more of him in, and then paused. 

He breathed slowly, in and out of his nose. The tip was just slightly resting in the back of his throat, cradled by the muscles there. 

Mitaka could feel them flex; just the little swallows alone were enough to start the tingling build of his orgasm. 

“Val…,” Mitaka whined quietly, thrashing his shoulders slightly, needing to move. “Please… please, Val.”

Val breathed in once more, then shoved himself down in one quick stroke, and Mitaka’s cock slid deeper, smacking into the back of the other man’s throat where it was hot and slimy and wet. Mitaka called out, curling his hips forward, and Val pulled back again, just slightly, and there was his hand, gloved finger pointing upward. 

Mitaka began to thrust, trying his very best to keep it slow, but damn the other man felt so good. Hot, wet, sticky, slick, that tongue cradling him protectively over his teeth. He slipped his hand deep into Val’s soft, blonde tresses, yanking on them, holding his head still, while he began to pick up speed. Val closed his eyes, a perfectly calm and still receptacle as Mitaka used him, his thrusts so quick and fast he felt the back of the man’s throat in soft, little bumps with every motion. His head tilted back, he bucked upward, harder, faster, lost in the sensation, and soon he was pulling desperately on that hair, boots pressing into the ground, thrusting violently upward as he spilled himself down Val’s throat. The blonde was coughing, choking slightly, and Mitaka released his hold on his hair to let him remove himself. 

Val only did part way, but sucked firm on the tip of him, sliding that softening cock back in his mouth to dip down and chase remnants of cum sliding away from him. When he finally pulled off, he swallowed firmly, coughed once or twice, then wiped a remnant of cum off of his lip with a heady smile, lapping that away, too, with his tongue. 

“Not a drop wasted,” Val murmured, seeming proud of himself. 

Mitaka was simultaneously disgusted as well as enamored, flustered, and completely turned on. He reached out and pressed his palm against Val’s cheek, stroking him softly under the eye with a thumb. 

It was a loving gesture. Val turned pink. 

They stared at one another for a long time. 

Mitaka thought about how he felt. He wondered… 

But the clock was ticking. 

“Thirty minutes, Sergeant.”

Val rose up in his seat and smacked a firm kiss to Mitaka’s lips, then got to his feet and stepped deeper into the room, going to the side table where the lieutenant stored his lubricant. He made his way back with it, grinning softly, and came to a stop just before the couch. He undid his belt buckle, unzipped his pants, his erection clearly visibly straining beneath the soft cloth of his underwear. 

“Please remove your pants, sir,” Val requested in a civil tone. 

Mitaka loved when he was extra polite, and loved to be called sir. It made him feel powerful. He smiled slightly, beside himself, then did as asked, standing and letting them fall to the floor. He had nowhere to be after this. 

Val approached him, pulling his underwear down his legs, and Mitaka stepped out of them. 

“Stand here,” Val took Mitaka’s hand and guided him around to the back of the sofa. 

“I want you to bend over the back, okay?”

Mitaka’s eyes widened, but he nodded, doing as requested. He turned and leaned over the back of the sofa, resting his palms on the cushions below. The gesture left his little bubble of an ass on prime display, and Val could not help himself, but stepped over and palmed both sides in his hands, squeezing and massaging him with delight. 

Mitaka shivered. 

The lube bottle opened with a creak, and cool liquid was seeping between his cheeks. Val caught it with his fingers, quickly and with experience, smoothing it up the expanse of Mitaka’s sensitive perineum, pausing to stroke there, as if massaging the lubricant in. Mitaka shifted, beginning to moan softly, and his hips rotated in small circles with Val’s movements, unaware he was doing so. 

Val chuckled, leaning down and planting a smacking kiss on one of Mitaka’s asscheeks, which rewarded him with a yelp of surprise. Val applied more lubricant, massaging in slow, rimming circles around his entrance, before prodding within again. One finger was not resistant, but two, three, even four proved difficult, and Val watched the clock nervously as he tried to prepare his lover. 

Mitaka was lost in his own little world of pleasure, no longer aware that time was running out. Palms planted on the cushions, he rocked back onto Val’s fingers, moans increasing in pitch and volume whenever the blonde’s fingertips would creep near that gland within him, feeling a burning urge within his abdomen, as if he suddenly needed to expel large amounts of fluid all at once. 

He bucked his hips upward slightly with a dark moan, to alert Val that he’d found the right place. 

Four fingers in, and Val massaged that tight button of nerves with three fingers, thrusting in the squelching warm damp, and Mitaka’s breath picked up, his heart hammering, his arousal rising fast. The bud within him was swollen now, hungry with need, and Val knew he was ready. 

Pulling his fingers from within, he gripped hold of his cock and readied it as well with lubricant, steadying his lover with one hand firmly planted on his lower back as MItaka had begun to squirm impatiently. 

“Val,” Mitaka moaned, his tone bitter with irritation. “Hurry.”

“Always impatient,” he chuckled, planting his hand on the man’s ass. He prodded against his entrance, carefully, tentatively, but as Mitaka sighed and pressed back against him, taking the tip of him in, he thrust in, hard, causing the smaller man to bark out a moan of hot desire, his head tossing back, his fingers digging into the cushion.

Val took a few warm up thrusts to become adjusted, feeling that drag on his cock from how tight the man squeezed around him, that swollen prostate making it’s greedy presence known every time he rubbed past it. 

He really, really wanted to tell this man he loved him. He studied his pretty dark hair, the span of his pale skin, the pretty curve of his spine, the sexy cut of his hips, the swell of his ass, how it sucked hungrily on his cock. His heart swelled with need and longing, and he ignored the clock, beginning to pick up rhythm. It wasn’t long before his thrusts had Mitaka crying out, as if in pain, but subtle pleasurable changes were noted with each violently heavy thrust that rocked the sofa forward just a little. 

The gland within him was teased beyond repair, and Mitaka spewed a weaker, filmy fluid against the back of the sofa, barking out in his orgasm, trembling head to toe, shaking with the violent waves of good feeling. Beads of sweat began to gather at his temples, and he moaned for further release, unsure what he needed. 

He bent over further, taking him deeper, and Val rode him hard and heavy, the room filled with the slaps of flesh and grunts of desire, squelches of slick, and Val came with a heavy slap to Mitaka’s ass cheeks, rolling his head as he squeezed the muscle in his fists, pumping into him and filling him full with his cum. 

It was over, and Val staggered back, panting, flopping back against the wall and running a trembling hand through his hair to try and right it again. 

Mitaka lay where he was, utterly spent, unwilling to move, staring at the armrest of the sofa as he felt a thin stream of cum sneak down his leg. 

After recovering himself, Val stepped forward, helped Mitaka up, but the man turned in his arms and pressed against him, throwing all of his weight around the arms looped around Val’s neck. Val laughed, sinking slightly under his weight, and allowed Mitaka to pepper him with little kisses as he helped shift him back through the little apartment and toward the fresher. 

“Don’t go to your shift,” Mitaka whispered, pushing up onto his toes and begging Val with a whine and a nipped kiss along the shell of his ear. “Stay with me and fuck me some more.”

“I have to go,” Val murmured, very reluctant, wondering if he did stay, would Mitaka admit that he loved him? Would tonight be the night? 

“Don’t you want me to be a good soldier for the Order?” 

Mitaka sighed and pulled off of him then, shrugging his shoulders in his uniform jacket that he was still wearing, only nude from the waist down. He rummaged in a cabinet and handed Val a towel to clean up, giving in. 

Val cleaned himself, then carried the towel to the laundry chute, depositing it there and gathering the items for his uniform. He dressed quickly, and Mitaka pulled on a fresh pair of underwear after cleaning himself as well, standing and staring at him, watching his lover get ready for his night shift. 

Val applied his cap, then turned, dressed in full First Order regalia and looking rather handsome. Mitaka frowned and crossed the room to him, brushing his hands over the slight wrinkles he’d caused, fussing over him. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured softly. “I hope you don’t get demerits.”

Again, those three little words threatened to swell out of Val’s chest. He wanted to say them. Instead, he leaned close and kissed Mitaka’s cheek. 

“See you in the mess hall tomorrow morning. Sleep well.”

“Good night,” Mitaka mumbled, his tone oozing with sorrow. 

Val gave him a twinkling smile before exiting the room, giving him a little wave with a bare hand before disappearing through the pneumatic door. 

_ Bare hand. _

Mitaka glanced at the sofa, discovering Val’s forgotten glove. He hurried toward it, snatching it up, and scurried toward the pneumatic door without thinking. 

The panels slid open and he stepped out into the hall. 

“Sergeant!” he called, his voice soft, his tone coy. “You forgot your-,”

The words turned to ash in his mouth. Val stood only a few feet away, and standing beside him was Captain Peavey, who was now looking at the Lieutenant as if he had three horns growing out of his head. 

Mitaka felt like he might throw up, and fell into an attention stance, realizing only then, to his utter mortification, that he was not wearing his pants. 

His eyes began to sting with the threat of tears. Only sheer humiliation and rage held them back. 

“You two will explain yourselves, immediately,” Captain Peavey ordered, so furious that little specks of spittle flew from his lips as he gave them a proper shouting. 

Val’s expression was hard and cold, and he strode over to stand beside Mitaka. He knew what he wanted, and to him, he would take what he wanted wherever, even if that meant being kicked out of the Order. 

“That is none of your business, sir.”

Peavey turned a dark shade of puce at the audacity of Val’s comment. 

“Sergeant!” he shouted. “I am your commanding officer! You will  _ tell me _ what is happening here or I will have you court martialed and-,”

Val was ignoring him, trying to earn Mitaka’s attention. He reached for the young man’s hand, whispering words of comfort, but Mitaka yanked away from him, turned on one bare heel, and fled into his room. Val attempted to follow him, but the pneumatic door would not open, despite the press of the button. Mitaka had locked him out. 

He stood at the door, his heart heavy, and turned to face the Captain with a sternly clenched jaw. 

“Were you involved with the Lieutenant, Sergeant?”

“You mean did we fuck? Cause yeah, we did.”

Val’s eyes flashed angrily, his patience for a system that would deny romantic feeling and emotional, sexual satisfaction to its people long gone. He had no love of the Order, he now realized. He only loved Mitaka. 

“You-... you-... YOU-,” Captain Peavey looked like he might bust a vein. He straightened his spine and glared Val down with absolute fury. 

“You will accompany me immediately to solitary confinement until your superior can deal with you.” Captain Peavey’s chest swelled with the order. He strode forward and punched in an override code to Mitaka’s room and the doors swished open, revealing a fully dressed Mitaka, one with shining eyes, though his jaw was set and he stood at attention. 

“Lieutenant Mitaka, you will accom-,”

“Yes, sir, I understand,” Mitaka uttered blandly, attempting to salvage some of his honor and attend to his punishment with grace. He ignored Val’s gaze as he strode out of the room and into the hall, turning on one booted heel to follow closely behind Captain Peavey. Val kept up, not bothering to walk at attention anymore, a sick and wary feeling beginning to build in his heart. 

They were separated into two different holding rooms. Val tried once more to get Mitaka’s attention, but Dopheld slipped into his own room without even looking back at him once. 

Val could feel his heart begin to crack under the burden of this weight. 

He hissed at Peavey as he held the door open for him, stepped into his holding room, and stood staring at the table in front of him, refusing to sit, his entire body electric with adrenaline and fury. 

In the room next door, Mitaka was doing his very best not to burst into tears. He was aware of the video surveillance in the room, and he absolutely refused to show such weakness in front of others, though he felt like his heart was being depressed under a very large weight. He’d never felt this compromised, emotionally, before. Things had always been easier in that category for him. 

He never should have let Val into his life, never. He should have listened to the General. He should have kept his head down and stuck to his job. 

But the memory of Val’s laughter, his smiles, his kisses and warm touch, the way he made Mitaka feel: soft and loved and valued and precious, they were still so fresh, ever present in his mind. The thought of losing that, of having been caught, hurt more than anything he’d ever felt before. 

All his life, Mitaka had never had anything just for him. Val had been his. 

Now? He’d be lucky if they both got to stay on the same ship. 

One very small tear slipped down his cheek and Mitaka brushed it away hurriedly, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor, his head ducked down to stare at his lap. 

He jumped with a violent start as the door swung open. In strolled Hux, dressed in his uniform, his hair loose, unkempt, and Mitaka paled to see it. 

The General had no time to fix his hair, likely woken from sleep or interrupted during down-time, as it was quite late and most of the ship was in slumber. He would be even more angry, knowing that Mitaka had forced him to leave his chambers in such a state, to appear unruly before the other officers. 

As Hux shut the door behind him with a slam, gloved palm held flat to the door for a moment too long, his jaw clenched, green eyes filled with fiery fury, Mitaka slunk further in his chair, avoiding his gaze. 

“Sit up, you fool,” Hux sneered at him, crossing to the seat before Mitaka, pulling it out with one swift motion and sinking elegantly into it. 

Mitaka did as asked, sitting up straight, pinning his eyes over Hux’s shoulder, staring at the wall, unable to meet his gaze. 

Hux lifted a datapad out of his inside coat pocket, fiddling with the controls to the room, cutting off the audio and video feeds so that his conversation with the Lieutenant would be relatively private. Once that was taken care of, he lay the datapad down on the table and pierced Mitaka with a stern look. 

“What did I tell you about involving yourself-,”

“Yes, sir,” Mitaka uttered pleadingly, his eyes shining once more with unshed tears. “I-... I am-... I am a fool.”

Hux clenched his jaw and studied him with controlled fury, for the first time in his life unsure of what to say or do. 

He valued Mitaka quite a lot, and had been impressed with his capabilities and his loyalty on many occasions. In these current times of stress for the General, Mitaka was the one and only individual within the First Order he felt he could truly trust. 

“Peavey is calling for your demotion,” Hux snarled, clearly disgusted. 

Mitaka slunk lower in his seat with a slight whimper. 

“Sit up.”

Mitaka did so, removing his trembling hands from the table and placing them in his lap. 

“He is threatening to send you to another ship,” Hux went on, turning his gaze away from the lieutenant’s face, unable to look at him without feeling nauseated. 

“Sir, I am… sorry,” Mitaka offered, knowing Hux wouldn’t accept it, would hate to hear it. Knowing that being sorry for something didn’t change the fact that he’d done it. 

And beside, he wasn’t really sure that he was sorry. 

He was sorry that he’d been caught. 

“I am not going to let that happen,” Hux went on as if he had not heard him. “Not because you deserve to be saved from your foolishness, but because I need you and I have no time to find a replacement.”

Mitaka ducked his head down to wipe the tears quickly out of his eyes, straightening up once more, fixing his eyes again over Hux’s shoulders. At least the General did not seem to notice. 

“I… will do anything you ask of me, General.”

“Good. You are going to break it off with the Sergeant and testify that it was his idea, that you did it one time. It will not absolve you of extra duties and a wage docking, but I will be able to save your rank and your service onboard this vessel.”

Mitaka had stopped listening after Hux’s first requirement. His heart shriveled within him, a sharp pain setting his stomach to roll with nausea. He flattened his palms on the table and met Hux’s eyes for the first time, shaking his head in desperation. 

“But… sir, please. I cannot-... I cannot turn against him. I am as guilty as he.”

“Lieutenant!” Hux snapped at him, running a hand through his hair, trying to stabilize both it and his attitude. “This is not a negotiation. I warned you what would happen. I took personal time to teach you and shelter you under my wing, and this is how you repay me.”

Mitaka’s eyes spilled over, a tear or two strolling down his cheek. Hux made a face of discomfort, shifting in his seat, and averted his eyes, sighing heavily as the Lieutenant wiped them away hastily, biting back a soft sob. 

“Take a moment to collect yourself.” Hux murmured, his voice less harsh than before. “I will summon you to my office shortly.”

With that, Hux’s chair scraped along the duracrete floor, the sound loud and causing Mitaka to flinch. Hux swept from the room, his greatcoat swirling behind him. 

Safe from the prying eyes of the cameras, Mitaka lay his head in his hands and let out a heavy sob. Tears wet his gloves, dripping down his wrist and disappearing into his jacket sleeve, his heart burdened with pain. He found himself longing to be held, to be loved on, kissed and touched, to feel those large hands smooth through his hair. 

He wanted Val to help him ease his pain. But he would never again have Val in that regard. 

He used the time given to try and wipe the memories free from his mind. It was what General Hux would do. He would pretend it had never happened, grow cold from within, freeze out the yearning and desire, kill it. He had to, for the sake of his position, for the sake of his reputation, for the sake of the First Order. 

By the time his summons came, Mitaka’s face was clear, his eyes tear-free, his heart stone. 

He walked down the hallway, accompanied by a Captain he had never met before, one in charge of prisoner and interrogation watch. They took the turbo lift up a few floors, exiting onto the floor containing the bridge, and strolled down the hall until they arrived at General Hux’s quarters. The Captain remained with him until the door had opened, and Mitaka stepped inside.

Hux was seated behind his black desk, his hair combed back with pomade, two crystal glasses of whiskey before him on the table. Mitaka took his seat in one of the chairs across from Hux, his hands trembling, but kept his face stony and clear, meeting the General’s eyes across the table. 

Hux studied him, seeming to have calmed down quite a bit, though his gaze was cold. He pressed two gloved fingers against one of the glasses and slid it across the table top toward the other man. 

“Drink it,” he ordered, glancing down at his datapad and tapping away at something. 

Mitaka took the glass in one hand, the liquid sloshing slightly at the tremors in his touch. 

Hux glanced up, as if concerned he had spilled, and stared Mitaka down until he did as he was told. 

Mitaka lifted the glass to his lips and tossed it down in two gulps, hissing and making a face as it burned his throat on the way down. He set the glass back down on the table and Hux moved forward, refilling it once more from the decanter. 

“This one is for later,” he informed him quietly. 

Mitaka’s mask almost slipped, his concern showing through. That did not bode well for him. 

Hux leaned back in his chair, sipping slowly from his own glass, then set it down and reached for the datapad. 

“Lieutenant Mitaka, you have been found guilty of fraternizing with a subordinate, the punishment for which shall be two months extra duties in the office-keeping and sewage department, as well as docked wages for three standard months. Do you accept your punishment?”

Mitaka lowered his head, nodding in a way he hoped seemed strong and convincing. 

“Good. Drink the second one. The Sergeant is on his way.”

“Sir?” 

Mitaka’s head picked up, his brown eyes slipping from their stony gaze into one of weakened concern. 

Hux sighed. 

“I told you. You must cut it off with him,” Hux sounded impatient. “When he comes in, I will ask him a series of questions. You remain silent. When I pronounce his punishment, he may try to speak to you. If he does, you end it. Cut him off.”

_ Break his heart. _

Mitaka’s heart throbbed as well as his head, and he pressed a hand over his eyes, swaying in his seat. 

“But sir… I-... That would be a lie.”

“Then lie.”

Mitaka lowered his hand and met Hux’s green-glass stare. He did not seem angry now, more impatient and annoyed, and there was a slight gesture of sympathy in the way he examined him. 

He wondered then if the General had ever been in love. He was probably too ambitious for that to occur. 

_ In love… _

MItaka’s eyes began to sting once more with the threat of tears. He was in love… he was in love with Val Alcyon. He loved him. 

He’d never gotten to tell him. 

He reached for the glass and knocked it back, using the burn down his throat as distraction from the burning in his heart. 

The doors swished open and Val Alcyon entered the room. The moment he laid eyes on Mitaka, he rushed for him, laying a hand on his shoulder and starting to crouch down beside his chair. 

“Are you alright?”

“Step away from the Lieutenant, Sergeant.” 

Hux’s voice was deadly and dark as he stood, using his height and impressive presence in that black coat to intimidate. 

Val did not intimidate easily, but he did as requested, giving Mitaka a soft frown as he turned and sank into the chair next to him. 

Hux settled back into his own seat, his jaw clenched tight with fury once more, and shuffled the datapad closer. 

“Val Alcyon, you are hereby stripped of your current rank of Sergeant,” Hux read from the datapad. 

Val blinked. “What?”

Hux went on. “demoted to Squad Leader…”

“Wait, what?” Val interjected again, standing up, fists clenched at his sides. 

“You will be sent to Reconditioning on the star destroyer  _ Conqueror _ , after which you will be reassigned to another ship,” Hux finished, glancing up from the datapad and narrowing his eyes on the former Sergeant. “Sit down, please.”

“Dopheld, did he do this to you, too?” Val turned toward his lover, or whom he thought was his lover, his face torn with outrage. “You-... you can’t do this to us, you can’t-,”

“ _ Lieutenant _ Mitaka has been punished accordingly,” Hux uttered coldly. “Once again, I must ask you to sit down.”

“Dopheld,” Val turned toward Mitaka again, sinking into his chair and leaning toward him. He reached for his hand. “Talk to me, please, you’re driving me crazy.”

Mitaka pulled his hand away from him, clenching his jaw and staring straight forward at Hux, watching his eyes. If he looked anywhere else than at the man he trusted with his life, he’d lose it. He’d break down. 

“Sergeant Alcyon, I believe you may have misconstrued the nature of our relationship. We had fun. We got caught. It’s done.”

Val’s expression was no different than if someone had just told him his entire home planet had been destroyed by Starkiller. The horror, disgust, and heart-wrenching pain could be read on every facet of his face. His lips, so fond of smiling, hung open in a pained frown, and his eyes welled with angry tears. 

“What the fuck?!” he stood up again, shoving the chair back from the table. “No- that’s not-... Mitaka, please!”

“Alcyon, have a  _ seat _ !” Hux shouted, his hand hovering over the security comms buzzer. 

Val laid a hand on Mitaka’s shoulder, tried to turn his body toward him, his other hand pawing at his face. 

Hux pressed the buzzer with his palm. 

“Dopheld… please, look at me,” Val was begging. Mitaka raised an arm and shoved him away, trying to break the other man’s hold on him, but the pneumatic doors swished open, and several heavy booted storm troopers surged in. 

They clasped hold of Val, who protested with loud shouts, wrestled him into submission, and slapped his wrists in stun cuffs, kicking him to his knees on the floor. 

Hux strode around the side of the desk, his eyes cold, hands clasped behind his back. 

“Put him on the supply transport heading back to  _ The Conqueror _ .”

Mitaka did not look as they dragged the man out of the room, the man who’d suddenly gone quiet and still, his face pale. The man who, only hours ago, had smiled like he held the whole galaxy in the palm of his hand. The man who Mitaka loved. The man who was no more to him. 

Hux pressed the key to close the door and sighed a deep, heavy sigh of relief. He turned at the sound of soft, shaking sobs, taking in the huddled form of Mitaka in his chair, an arm over his eyes, his free hand clenching the fabric of his uniform tight in his fist. Hux said nothing, but walked back to the desk and poured him another round of whiskey, offering him a handkerchief pulled from his desk. 

Mitaka did not take it, but remained hidden in the corner of his elbow, hiccuping out great sobs in his anguish. 

Hux did not mind. The Lieutenant had always been relatively soft. Not everyone could hold all of their weaknesses at bay. He sank into his chair behind the desk and pulled up his datapad, entering a three day leave for his favorite subordinate. 

“You have three days free from duty until your punishment begins,” Hux uttered gently, his tone calm now that he’d worked everything out. “Take the time to finish your mourning.”

Mitaka did not speak a word in reply, knowing rationally he should thank the General for saving him. He could be the one on the transport, knocked down a few pegs. He could be the one having to be arrested and dragged out of here like rebel scum. 

He was as angry with himself as he was angry with General Hux. At least Hux had the ability to be cold and calculating; at least he could detach himself emotionally from a situation. Mitaka had made far too many mistakes with that young man. 

“Take your time here,” Hux murmured softly, heading for the inner door which led to his more private quarters. “When you feel ready you may return to your room. I will see you in three days time.”

And Hux left, no consoling words, no apologies, no soothing thoughts of wisdom. 

Mitaka took the glass of whiskey in his trembling hand, tempted to hurl it at the wall, but Hux would likely hear and become angry again. Instead, he knocked it back, used the handkerchief to dry his face, then took a few steadying breaths before making his way back to his room. 

Val’s glove lay where he’d dropped it on the bed. The cleaning droids had come and gone, so nothing else remained of him. Mitaka approached the bed, removing his own gloves and tossing them onto his dresser. 

He picked up Val’s glove, fingering it slowly, then raised and pressed it to his cheek, shoulders shuddering with dry sobs. 

Val sat slumped in a bucket seat on a military transport, the kind they used to cart Storm Troopers around, nothing fancy. The inside was like the heated belly of a sarlacc, damp with a funky humidity, smelling like a locker room. He wondered vaguely how often they cleaned these things out after battles, carting troopers around that were covered in sweat, saliva, blood, urine, and shit. 

His jaw smarted and his bottom lip was swollen, a little dribble of blood dried on his chin. One of the storm troopers must have been a rookie, cause when Val had refused to board the transport, protesting by sitting on the floor, he slammed his fist into his face instead of just utilizing the stun option on the cuffs.. Perhaps he wasn’t a rookie, but just hated stupid First Order traitors like him. 

He could still feel Mitaka on him, their flesh touching, the friction and pull around his cock as he filled him with pleasure; could still taste his lips and his tongue. If he closed his eyes, he could see the darker specs of brown within the other man’s irises, the long, dark lashes fluttering against his cheek, could hear the tremble in his voice as he breathed in before giving him a long, loving kiss. He could feel his fingers carding through his hair, his scalp still stinging from where Mitaka had yanked on him as he abused his mouth with his lust. 

Val didn’t want to feel or remember these things. It was the purest form of torture, knowing that he’d made a fool of himself, been too vulnerable and open with his heart, tried to romance a kriffing First Order Lieutenant. 

_ How stupid. _

He had been so sure of Mitaka’s love, so confident, he would have bet all he contained on that one little fact alone. But he had been wrong, and he was wounded from it. 

The transport rocked slightly as it lowered through the atmosphere of the planet, where it would dock and pick up a scheduled supply run before delivering said supplies to both the  _ Conqueror  _ and the  _ Steadfast _ . Val lay his cheek against the cold durasteel wall, staring at the troopers who sat a few seats away from him, between him and the exit ramp at the rear of the ship. 

They landed quite roughly, and Val swore as his lip bumped into the wall. It started bleeding again. He could feel blood drizzle down his chin, and he lapped it with his tongue, trying to soothe the cut, wincing at the bitter, copper taste. The ramp lowered and several storm troopers exited, while four of them surrounded Val, blasters held up to keep him in his place.

He glanced out at the grassy surface of the planet, wondering exactly which one they were on, and if he’d be able to fight his way out. 

Suddenly, the sounds of blaster fire and screams through helmet comms rang out. 

“Oh no, they’re under attack,” one of the troopers exclaimed, his voice muffled under his helmet. He broke off for the ramp, but one of the other troopers slammed him roughly in the shoulder with his gun. 

“Stop. The prisoner!”

“But the attack-”

“I’m not a prisoner,” Val muttered in a dark voice. “I’m a First Order officer who’s on his way to reconditioning. There’s a difference.”

“And why do you need reconditioning, eh?” one of the other troopers hissed. “Kriffin’ officers. Babies, the lot of ‘em.”

The sounds of blaster fire came closer, and suddenly four individuals, dressed in ragtag colors and outfits, came speeding up the ramp. The storm troopers turned too late, only two of them managed to get a shot out, before the four individuals opened fire on them, taking them out. 

Val ducked to the floor with a loud swear, rolling beneath the line of bucket seats, laying painfully on his back, his bound hands beneath his ass. Everything hurt, and as he tried to roll back over, he met a pair of dirty brown boots, face first. 

“Who’s this guy?”

Someone grabbed hold of his jacket and hoisted him upward, shoving him into the seat. He swore again and raised a booted foot to kick out at them, but paused, his eyes widening. 

He recognized the one with the boots.  _ Poe Dameron _ , best pilot in the Resistance, only person who’d riffed a joke on General Hux and lived to tell about it. He was a legend, even among the First Order. 

Val stared at him with wide eyes. 

“He’s wearing officers scrubs,” an unknown woman grumbled, her dark hair pulled back in a thick ponytail, her eyes narrowed on him distrustfully. 

A dark-skinned man stepped forward, clapping a hand on Poe’s shoulder. 

“He’s likely being sent to reconditioning,” the man explained, voice low in Poe’s ear. “First Order does that with the ones who start to think screwy thoughts. Almost happened to me, before I defected.”

Val’s eyes widened even more. That man… he must be…

“FN-2187!” Val exclaimed, sitting up quickly in his seat. 

Finn turned to stare at Val, shrugging and giving him a bit of a cheeky grin. 

“Not anymore. Name’s Finn. Who’re you?”

Val was unsure how to respond. There were many options available to him, but none seemed promising. They might kill him, imprison him; he wouldn’t mind those so much. His life wasn’t worth much to him in his current state of grief, though that was mostly depression and exhaustion talking. 

But what if they’d let him join…?

He could tell them things, help them. He could fight back against that miserable son of a bitch who had lapped up his heart, chewed it up, then spit it out again. 

He clenched his jaw with fury. 

“Val Alcyon, former Sergeant of the First Order. They kicked me out cause I don’t agree with their values.”

It was partially true. 

Poe looked skeptical, scratching his stubble with a gloved hand. 

“Ehhhh, I dunno…” he shrugged, turning to glance at Finn. “Whadda ya think?”

“Likely telling the truth. But he’s got the cuffs on. We can stun ‘im, if we need to.”

Finn approached the storm trooper with the device that controlled the cuffs, ripping it off his gauntlet and holding it up in his hand. 

“Well, Val Alcyon. We’re commandeering this ship, and all it’s supplies. Guess you’re property of the Resistance, now.”

The Resistance for the most part, ignored him as they readied the ship and their supplies. Val had plenty of opportunities to run away, though Finn stayed close by and still had the cuff controls, so perhaps they realized he’d be stupid to try anything. 

Val remained seated in the bucket seat, the split in his lip finally stopped bleeding, and watched them with mild curiosity, a welcome distraction from the pain that was in his heart. 

Soon, the ship loaded up, they all climbed aboard and fired her up, Poe Dameron in the cockpit. Finn stood between the cockpit and the passenger compartment, to keep an eye on Val, while the dark haired woman and the Sullustan sat sharing some sort of fruit, laughing and telling jokes to one another, in the back of the transport. 

Val looked to Finn, studying him, wondering just what had made the man snap out of his training and run off and join the Resistance. Was it worth that much to him? 

He thought of Mitaka, and how disgusted and angry he’d be to know what Val was considering. He imagined getting to tell him, watching the words sink in like a knife. Would he be furious? Would he want to kill him?

Or would he beg him, plead with him to stay?

_ I won’t leave you. _

He had meant that promise. But Mitaka hadn’t allowed him to keep it. 

Finn must have seen the sorrow in his face, because he came closer, cradling his blaster across his chest, tilting his head to examine the young man further.

“They do things like that to you…” Finn murmured, as if he could see into Val’s heart, see the pain. “They make you… inhuman. We-... we can help you.”

Val’s eyes filled slightly with tears. He nodded, sighing slightly, then looked away. Finn nodded once as well, then went back to his post. 

Inhuman… that was Mitaka, someone unwilling to embrace love, to sacrifice everything he held dear in the name of some stupid, outdated moral code. That was his parents, General Hux, the whole lot of them. They were all fools. 

Maybe, for once in his life, being with the Resistance might actually give Val something to believe in. 

**Author's Note:**

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